


and ease my mind

by engmaresh



Category: Elementary (TV)
Genre: Brothers, Gen, Hospitalization, Male-Female Friendship, POV Outsider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 13:59:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/engmaresh/pseuds/engmaresh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andre knows he hasn't been the greatest brother in the world, but he's trying now. And Marcus is clearly doing all right, especially in his friendship with Joan Watson.<br/>Post 2x10 missing scene.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and ease my mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [subjunctive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subjunctive/gifts).



> Title from the song "Brother" by Matt Corby.

They’re having another one of their silences. Andre picks at a loose thread on his jeans, pointedly ignoring his younger brother’s attempts to lift the knob of putty. Marcus’ low grunts of frustration are painful to hear, but it’s better than two days ago when they’d had a shouting match that had ended with angry tears on both sides. More on his part than on Marcus', really. Lord, Andre hasn't really seen Marcus shed more than a few tears since Mama died, but just the few is already bad enough.

Andre hates watching Marcus cry. It’s just another sign that he’s failed him as a brother, failed the only person in this world who matters anymore. Watching Marcus cry is even worse than it had been watching Mama cry. Mama, when she cried, had had every reason to do so, working two underpaying, unappreciative jobs to keep a roof over their heads and food on their table. And Andre had known then that there was little he could have done about.

With Marcus though, he could. He’d made sure no one picked on his younger brother in school, and after he’d dropped out, still made sure meet him after it was over every day until Marcus got old enough to be embarrassed by it. Hell, that’s one of the reasons he’d started running with the gangs in the first place. To get his little brother through school, to get him what he needed, to make sure he grew up a relatively happy teenager.

So thank god there are no such outbursts today. A selfish desire, Andre knows, in the face of what Marcus stands to lose, but he’ll still take any silence over tears.

“Fuck.”

Andre looks up to find Marcus straining over the edge of the bed for the lump of putty that’s clearly way out of reach.

“You crazy?” he blurts as he jumps to his feet. “You fall out of bed on that arm and even the PT won’t help.”

“Shut up,” Marcus snaps, but he sits back and lets Andre pick it up for him. Andre isn’t about to hand it back to him though. Not when he’s been spending the past half-hour listening to his younger brother drive himself crazy over it. He’ll take not-speaking over tears but that doesn’t mean he’s going to sit here for another half hour letting Marcus’ grunts and growls serenade him.

“Andre,” says Marcus and he holds out his good hand for the putty but Andre jut sits back in his visitor’s chair and rolls out the lump over his knee.

“No,” he says, twisting the length into a pretzel. “You’ve been working that arm enough for now. Take a break.”

“And do what?” Marcus asks bitingly. “You may have noticed there’s not much for entertainment here.”

“You’ve lived a sad, sad life if you call that entertainment, brother.”

The door creaks and Andre whips his head around to look fast enough to give himself a crick in the neck. He grimaces and reaches up to massage the aching area even as he takes in the other visitor.

“I’m sorry,” the woman says. “I didn’t know you already had a visitor. I’ll come back later.”

“It’s all right, Joan,” Marcus says and gestures to the remaining chair. _Joan?_ Andre thinks.The name is familiar, if she is the Joan Watson that's come to his mind. He and Marcus talk more now, but Marcus, professional smartass that he is, rarely bitches about his colleagues. When he does however, a man by the pretentious name of Sherlock Holmes is usually the target. Joan Watson appears occasionally, usually with Marcus in admiration of her patience.

So this is Joan. Chinese, tall made taller by killer heels, elegantly dressed even in everyday clothes. The kind of “better” people Andre always imagines his brother hanging out with, but to his surprise, he doesn’t dislike her at first sight.

“My brother, Andre,” Marcus says, and Andre extends a hand.

Joan smiles as she shakes it and the smile widens when she turns to Marcus. Andre glances at him in time to catch Marcus’ own smile and nod.

“I helped out in the case you were involved in,” Joan explains, as she sets down the box of Edible Arrangements she’d been carrying in the other hand. “How are you doing?”

“It’s been good,” Andre says, sitting back down to watch her inspect Marcus’ chart. She proceeds to ask his brother a series of questions about his progress. The clear medical nature of them raise his eyebrows.

“You a doctor?”

“I used to be a surgeon,” Joan says. Andre can tell that there’s a story behind that but he knows better than to pry.

“So you’re Sherlock Holmes’ partner?” he asks. 

Joan’s head snaps up to him, whipping her long black hair over her shoulder. It’s neatly tied back so he can clearly see the guilt in her expression as she shifts her weight nervously on her towering heels.

“Yes,” she sighs. “I am.”

“Andre,” Marcus says warningly, and Andre’s surprised to find his brother glaring at him. Can’t he even ask a simple question? He’s not about to drive the woman from the room.

Meanwhile Joan has folded herself into the other chair, tucking her long legs away under it.

“I was investigating this case with Sherlock and…” she sighs again. “Our actions led to this. I’m sorry.”

“Joan,” says Marcus, and reaches out with his bad hand. He manages to raise it halfway before it falls limply to the bed.

She gives him a weak smile and nudges the box of fruit at him. “I hope you like these. I can’t cook to save my life, and I’m sure you don’t want food poisoning on top of everything else.”

Marcus laughs. “Nah, that’s good. Thanks.”

“When will you be discharged?”

“Tomorrow, hopefully. Andre’s helping me with that.” Marcus gives a nod in his direction.

Andre blinks. “I am?”

Marcus snorts. “Yes.”

“Right. Y’know, you should get a dog.” He’s not entirely sure where that non-sequitur came from but now that he thinks of it, it’s a pretty good idea.

“Dammit, man, I’m not crippled–”

“I’m not thinking about service dogs, fool. A pet.”

Marcus gives him a pointed look. “Andre. I’m a cop. When will I have time for a damn dog? ‘sides, I don’t really like them.”

“Cat.”

“Don’t like those either.”

“You’re just worried they’ll mess up your fancy apartment.”

“Yeah, maybe I like living in a neat home.”

“Hey, it’s not like I make a mess or anything. You’re just so damn OCD–”

Joan’s laugh interrupts their argument. “I’m sorry,” she says from behind her hand as she tries to smother another giggle. “I’ve just had this conversation with my own brother several times. He’s been trying to get me to adopt a pet. Or date again. I’m not sure how he’s associating the two but he seems to be under the impression I’m suffering for company.”

“With Sherlock?” says Marcus, pouncing immediately on the subject. “Hah!”

“Yes,” Joan sighs. “I suppose there’s something to say about company that doesn’t make you want to punch them on a daily basis.”

“Hey, you’ve got me,” Marcus jokes.

“I do,” she agrees and smiles.

All right then. Best to leave these two be. Andre gets to his feet. “Hey, I’ll be back tomorrow.” He chucks the lump of putty back at his brother. Marcus catches it with his good hand.

“Yeah.”

“Let me know when you’re out.”

“Will do.”

He shakes Joan’s hand again. “Nice to meet you. And… thanks.”

The _why_ goes unspoken but Joan understands. She smiles at him. “Don’t mention it.”

It’s good to know his brother has friends who’ll visit him in hospital. Not that he has any idea what cops are like in their downtime but he’s never seen Marcus have friends over, or hang out much with other people. He’s definitely friends with Joan though. And Marcus sure seems a lot happier when she’s around….

Andre smiles to himself. Tomorrow he can tease Marcus all about it.

**Author's Note:**

> Dear Yuletide, it's not as relationship-y as I'd intended it to be, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Happy Holidays!


End file.
